


Foster Home: No. 17

by kingollie



Category: Hello Neighbor (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nicky is a foster kid, Specific AU where Peterson is an okay dad, no kidnapping this time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingollie/pseuds/kingollie
Summary: After the sudden loss of his wife in a brutal car accident, Theodore Peterson attempts to reform his family life - by adding a new person amongst them. Happy to settle with anyone; the Peterson's soon foster one Nicholas Roth - a notorious runaway. And try to rebuild from there.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	Foster Home: No. 17

**Author's Note:**

> This AU exists purely because I want these people to be happy and TinyBuild ain't doing that

\--"What's his name?"

"How old is he-"

"-Where's he from?"

"Why don't his mom and dad want him-"

"-Is there something wrong with him?"

"Why are we getting him-"

"Is he sleeping in Aaron's room?"

"He better not! What if he snores - does he snore?"

Despite the heavy (and consistent) bombardment of questioning that befell him from the backseat of his beat-up little Volvo Amazon, Theodore Peterson remained steadfast in his own comfortable silence, content to listen to the muted battering from his children in conjunction with the bland tune pouring from the radio into the the car's interior. He hesitated, considering an answer, but instead gazed out of the passenger's window briefly, to check the street name plastered there was the one he wanted, and turned the corner. He wasn't particularly apt when it came to navigating bigger cities. Everything looked identical.

"Daaaad." Mya leant out of her seat and grasped at the back of his, as to garner his attention, she rattled at the leather until he let out a brutally curt huff of air; signally his resignation. The kids knew it, and Mya settled back down, chin jutted up in victory. Aaron was grinning at her. 

"His name is Nicholas. He's the same age as you, Aaron. I'm not sure where he's from." He thumbed at the peeling detailing on his steering wheel, trying his best to conjure up an age-appropriate response to the rest of the interrogation. It was hardly polite to inform his children that the boy's mother was arrested for prostitution when he was four, and their was no real way to determine his father - that he was a perceived 'problem-child' and regularly fled his foster homes to persue wherever his mother may have been. So instead he shrugged:

"There's nothing wrong with him.. his mother just wasn't ready for children and he needs somewhere to stay." 

"So why do we have to look after him?" Aaron's voice came out a long whinge. Theodore furrowed his brows, glaring momentarily into the mirror and catching the boy's eyes.

"He's not staying in your room." He stated blandly, not dignifying the rest with a response. Partly, because he wasn't entirely sure himself why he wanted another child in the house; it simply felt wrong with only three people meandering about inside, adding another person was currently his best bet for some semblance of comfort. Plus, it doubled as a distraction; prior to the actual collection day, his life had been swamped by paperwork and preparation. Due to the boy's propensity for escape, Theodore had spent his time proofing the room he'd chosen for him - making sure the windows had locks, there were no hollow walls cocooning it, and that the door was at the end of the hall (so if the kid was going to break out, then he'd have to pass the master bedroom). 

"And I don't know if he snores." He added briskly, squinting at another street sign for a moment and then turning into the smaller street it stood before.

Mya swung her legs a little. "Why does he live with so many people?"

"He's a foster child.. it's not permanent all the time." At that Aaron blew out a puff of air.

"That sucks." He sunk deeper into his seat. 

"Yes. So I'm expecting you to make good first impressions on him, okay?" He wagged a finger. "No pranks." Frankly, it didn't seem as though this child would respond well to that sort of thing, especially if he was prone to fleeing at a moment's notice: Theodore didn't want to give him any additional reasons to. 

"What's he look like?" Aaron again, leaning forward slightly. 

"You'll see him very soon." For a moment he paused, and then: "he may not look very healthy, though, so do not make any comments about it."

"Why?" 

"He lived on the street for a couple of months, before he was picked up again, he hasn't eaten very well." One of the instructions the boy's carer had given him was to make sure that he gained some weight, from the pictures he'd seen, Theodore was more concerned that it wasn't being taken care of already. He hadn't said that, but thought it hard enough perhaps for it to etch onto his features just a little, because the carer had looked a slight uncomfortable under his glowering.

"Woahh. Really? That's cool."

"It's not. He's very thin. And there are lots of nasty people living here, Nicholas is very lucky to be okay." That was an understatement, on multiple occasions the boy had apparently almost been snatched up by some of the most unsavoury types; the concept made Theodore's blood curdle. The agency was not entirely certain he hadn't ever been picked up ever, they simply hoped for the best. Theodore had instead planned for the worst, and made very sure that he knew the signs of trauma which arose from that kind of abuse. Just in case.

"Can I call him Nick? Nicholas is a really long name." Aaron drawled the three syllables out, as though it proved his point.

"What about Nicky?" Squeaked Mya. "I like Nicky!"

"Nickyyyyy." Droned Aaron, and she giggled. Theodore left them to it. 

They pulled into a car park, not long after, and the two behind him scrambled to stare into the towering grey block before them, it was futile really, since all the windows were tinted. Pulling the key from the ignition, the man got out, followed quickly by the kids. 

"Don't wander off, just stay in the waiting room when I'm talking to people." His command received a couple of nods that he returned slowly, and they began over to the building. Mya clutched at his hand, glancing about suspiciously, whilst Aaron waltzed ahead by a few feet. 

Inside the building the air stank of artificial overtones, from cheap air conditioners which pumped a steady stream of too-frigid blasts into the rooms. Mya hung off his arm a little, using him as an anchor as she surveyed the area and whistled softly. Aaron halted in front of him and took in the fray of people settled around the waiting room, Theodore urged him on with a light nudge to the back and they approached the front desk. Aaron rested his chin upon it and stared at the receptionist. She turned to him with a smile, then to Theodore. 

"Name? Last, middle, then first."

"Peterson, Masters, Theodore." She smiled again, and began to jab at the keys of her computer, which emitted a harsh 'clacking' sound.

"A-hah. You're actually just on time," she gestured to a door on their right, "go through there, the kids can wait in the common area. Nicholas' carer will come out to collect you." Theodore dipped his head, smothering a smile behind his moustache, a strange sense of pride settled in his chest. It was completely foreign to him, but he revelled in it as it arose. 

"Thank you." He replied gruffly, both of his children lingered to inspect the woman for a second, before trotting off into the next room. 

It was just as grim and unappealing inside. The same layout, minus the desk, same chairs except now the seats were arranged about the perimeter of the skirting board - rather than in lines across the expanse of the floor. There was a table of magazines in the middle of the room. No one was loitering about inside. 

"Go on, find somewhere to settle for a bit, don't leave, I'm not sure how long it will take." At his words, Mya wandered over to the nearest chair and flounced down into it, Aaron began rifling through the magazines. Theodore stood and watched them for a moment, as a door across the room opened and an older woman came into view. She waved him over, Aaron and Mya stared awkwardly, they never had much tact. It didn't bother the woman, evidently, as she flashed them a smile - holding the door ajar for Theodore. "Behave." He reminded them, before stepping through. 

"They're sweet kids." She walked briskly, with purpose, although it wasn't difficult to remain at her side - given how tall he was. "What are their names again?"

"Aaron and Mya."

"Pretty." She cocked her head, he hummed a note of agreement. "As for the next steps; you don't mind signing a few more things before we bring in Nick, do you?"

"Of course not." For a second, Theodore felt a mild inking of concern over his appearance and so flattened down the front of his argyle sweater with his palms - just to make it look a little neater. He hadn't worn gloves, exposing a few of the gnarled scars lacing the back of both hands, hopefully it wouldn't make a bad impression. 

"Grand. I think he was getting together the last of his things." She clapped both hands together. "You don't mind sitting in my office whilst I go and get him?" One of her hands waved in the direction of an office door marked 'Mrs. Wilson'. "The forms should be on the table." He bowed his head and walked in. It was cramped, filing cabinets lined the back wall and there was a small stack of paperwork settled on the corner of the overcrowded desk, along with a pen. Theodore sat on the little seat opposite the large leather one and began filling it in, feeling very out of proportion. 

He didn't know how long he sat there, when suddenly the door behind him clicked open and he turned to watch as casually as he could. Mrs.Wilson came through first and trailing behind her was Nicholas. He was wearing clothes far too big for him, and making a profound effort to look at everything that wasn't Mr.Peterson himself, he could see the nervous shifting from here. 

The boy looked practically identical to the pictures Theodore had seen; dreadfully skinny (although his eyes weren't as heavily lined with dark bags), fairly stunted for a boy his age, with dark, unkempt hair and even darker eyes - you couldn't tell where the iris ended and the pupil began. What was new to him were the freckles, perhaps they'd been obscured by the grainy quality of the photographs. It was obviously still the same boy though. Albeit more nervous than he'd seemed in the photograph. 

Nicholas finally gave in and made eye contact, Theodore smiled just a slight and the boy offered him something between a wince and a grimace in return. 

"Nick. This is Theodore Peterson, Theodore this is Nicholas." The woman sunk into her chair and turned to the computer monitor. 

"Ted works just fine." He said, unable to formulate anything else really, the boy cocked his head at the sound of his voice, eyes flicking carefully over him. Although he didn't display any nerves on his face, Theodore can see the way he fiddled at his sleeves.

"Hey Ted," Nicholas' voice was low and raspy from underuse, he sounded tired, and looked it too, "just Nick is okay.." Theodore nodded, trying his best not to seem overly pushy as he returned to scrawling onto the form. Nick craned his head to watch a little, brows furrowed curiously. Under this new, mild scrutiny, Theodore tried not to react to the number of homes the boy had apparently cycled through recently; it was well into the teens. He scribbled down his own address alongside the list. Perhaps seventeenth time's the charm. 

"You know Mr. Peterson has children too, Nick?" It was Mrs. Wilson who spoke.

"Uh huh."

"Their name's are.. Aaron and Maya-"

"-Mya."

"Ah, of course, Mya. Very nice." Nick fiddled with the corner of the table, picking at the flaking bits of cheap wood. 

"How.. how old are they?"

"Mya is ten, Aaron is twelve." Theodore flipped the form, glancing up to meet the boy's gaze. "Your age?"

"Yeah."

"He's already excited. Although he does worry," Theodore paused for effect, sounding serious as he could manage, "if you snore."

Despite the strange solemnity Nick possessed, he snorted suddenly at the comment, a little flash of warmth flicking in his dark eyes, lips curled a little. Theodore smiled too, and then looked back down at the words before him. Nick watched for a couple of moments before Mrs. Wilson drew his attention upon her.

"Nicholas, could you also sign the form once Mr. Peterson has finished with it? I'm sure you know the drill." Her voice was laced with an underlying sardonic tone, although it was well smothered beneath her smile, Theodore furrowed his brows at the woman for a moment. As true as the comment technically was, it seemed asinine to mention it in such a way. Nick clearly picked up her implication too: 'you've run away so many times, and I fully expect you to do it again', and bristled somewhat, his top lip quivering.

"Sure." Was all he said. 

Theodore finished with the papers and slid them over to the boy with a small smile, offering him the pen. Nick took them both and scrawled his own 'signature' upon the pages; really it was just "N. Roth" with a little more flair applied to the initials, but no twelve year old really had a consistent signature. Mrs. Wilson grasped the form as soon as he was done and stuffed it unceremoniously into a wad of paper files, marked with a black pen: "Nicholas Roth".

"Well, Nick!" She chirruped, "let's get your belongings and head out to meet Mr. Peterson's kids." With that, she shunted open the door and gestured for them both to follow her through. 

Outside were Nick's bags, both cheap brown duffel ones, although they seemed to be sparsely packed - as when Theodore scooped them up instinctively, he found that he could sling both across the same shoulder and remain comfortable. Nick starred as he did so, head inclined to watch with an almost incredulous eye. But once he seemed to register that the man had no intention to snoop into the contents of his bags, the boy relaxed and wandered alongside him as they made their way back towards the waiting room. 

Mrs. Wilson occasionally threw the kid careful glances, as though anticipating an escape attempt, Theodore rolled his eyes at her. Nick was hardly prepared to run, having rolled back one of his oversized plaid sleeves and now was thumbing a nasty old scar, he seemed bored if anything. 

Upon entering the next room, they were met with two pairs of intently intrigued eyes, Aaron and Mya had settled by the table of magazines, which had been cluttered even more so than before. Mya stood up and deposited whatever she was flicking through back onto the table, trotting over to meet her dad half-way into the room. Aaron was slower, flashing a few intrigued glances in Nick's direction, before he waggled a hand in greeting. Nick returned it with substantially less enthusiasm, but Aaron didn't appear bothered.

Mya leant against Theodore's side and watched Nick for a moment longer. The man awkwardly hunkered down between the three children, settling uncomfortably onto his haunches and attempting not to teeter at all. It was difficult, his broad shoulders made him perpetually top-heavy and his spindly legs did little to rectify the issue.

"Aaron, Mya - this is Nick." He gestured towards the boy, who had ducked behind him a slight, his body was tense and brows pulled into a mildly disgruntled expression. Although he allowed the look to dissipate gradually into one of neutrality, as Aaron gave him another wave and a: "Hey, Nick!". Mya leaned on her father's knee and arched closer to the boy with a smile and greeting of her own. 

"Hi, nice to meet you." Nick offered one of his meek smile-grimaces. Theodore waited briefly before he nodded his approval, stood up, then brushed over his sweater. Any longer in that position and his joints probably would've locked up and he hardly wanted that. Before Aaron and Mya could begin their inevitable interrogation, he turned to the other boy.

"Do you mind the front seat? Or would you rather sit in the back of the car?"

"The front's fine.." Nick scuffed at the ground with one of his tattered trainers, "thank you." He tacked on, after a palpable stare from Mrs. Wilson.

"Where you from, Nick?"

"Can we call you Nicky?"

"Do you have a favourite colour?"

"Where did you stay when you lived outside?"

"What's your favourite food?"

Ah, the onslaught began; if Nicholas wasn't overwhelmed by the presence of Ted's children before, he certainly would be now. The boy's face was twisted in a peculiar, uncomfortable manner which exemplified his discomfort; nose bunched and lips drawn flat together. Out of all the questions, he managed to process the last, and replied snappily - before Aaron or Mya could ask any more.

"I like latkes." The boy offered.

"What's that?" Aaron's brows went up as soon as they received a response.

"They're like.. potato pancakes. You grate them up with onions 'n' shit and fry them."

"-Nicholas!" Mrs. Wilson's shrill bark cut partway through his sentence - and although Aaron and Mya looked alarmed at the boy's swearing, they looked even more so about the woman's snapping in response.

"Ah- I'm. I'm sorry, wasn't thinking."

"It's fine," Theodore interjected himself before Wilson could, "force of habit, hm?"

"Yeah," said Nick, evidently relieved, "guess so. I forget sometimes.. it's just how I talk." He directed the last bit at the woman, a little trill of rage seeping into his tone. 

"Well, there's no harm. I'm sure you'll get used to it."

"Yeah... Yeah, thanks."

"Right." Theodore adjusted his grip on the bags and surveyed the kids. "We've got everything and everyone." Mya wandered close to him again and smiled vacantly, Aaron loitered near Nick - clearly enthralled by his new peer. "I figure, we best be off." He turned to Wilson and forced a smile, despite it curling up the corners of his mustache, the look didn't reach his eyes properly. "Are we all good to go?"

"I'm. Well, yes I'm sure."

"Great!"

They didn't even hesitate before they left.


End file.
